


A Place to Start

by The_White_Rabbit42



Series: Home for the Holidays [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Human Gabriel, Slow Burn, hint of fluff, touch of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 12:46:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12817848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_White_Rabbit42/pseuds/The_White_Rabbit42
Summary: Your world becomes upended when Gabriel returns, and you do your best to find your footing with the former archangel.





	A Place to Start

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Rabbit's Floofmas event on tumblr (@thewhiterabbit42)

Your hands gripped the steering wheel, your palms still a little sweaty, though most of your nervousness had worn off by now.  It had been over twelve hours with hundreds of miles behind you, and you still couldn’t believe who was sitting in your passenger seat.  

 

You never thought you’d see that shade of gold again.  It was Gabriel’s and his alone: the color of late autumn sun hanging low on the horizon, washing across warm, tawny fields.  You’d given up hope he’d just appear one day, flashing that devastating smirk of his, confidence overflowing as he prepared to regale you with how he pulled off his greatest trick yet.  

 

Now that he was back, you had yet to even see him crack a smile. 

 

You didn’t know what to make of it.  The abrupt phone call.  The way he was all but dumped in your lap.  The fact that you were now traveling cross country with a very wanted individual. What Hell even wanted with him was beyond you, considering Lucifer was sealed up tight in a completely different dimension and Crowley was dead according to the Winchesters.

 

You couldn’t even begin think about the other bombs they’d tried to drop on you in the five minutes they dared to show their faces.

 

_ “One cluster at a time, thanks,” you said, putting up a hand to silence Dean.  You didn’t care what they had stepped into anymore.  You just wanted to be as far from them as possible.  You were still recovering from their last family debacle where their mother had tried to kill you and very nearly succeeded.   _

 

_ The aches that returned whenever it stormed weren’t the only things about that night that made you doubt whether you would ever be the same.   _

 

_ “Nice to see you too, sweetheart,” came a bitter reply from somewhere behind the brothers.   _

 

You hadn’t seen him sitting there in the backseat, still half-in with just his legs out the door.  You weren’t sure what he’d been waiting for.  Before, you would have assumed it was to make some grand entrance, but when he reluctantly stepped into view, the air around him deflated instead of filled with that large, self-satisfied persona of his, you realized you weren’t dealing with the same Gabriel.  

 

You imagined you wouldn’t be either, were you in his shoes.  

 

“We going to talk about this?”  By this you meant  _ any of it _ .  His resurrection.  The fact he hadn’t come back as an angel, but human.  The handful of demons that had nearly taken him back out of existence before anyone even knew he’d returned.  

 

The fact it was a Winchester responsible for you even knowing any of that.  

 

You had so many questions, but you were hesitant to ask any of them directly.  You knew what it was like to lose people, to have them turn their back on you, or betray you.  You didn’t want to push him, but you also liked to think that you had been more than just an amusement to pass the time; that you had actually been friends.

 

At least what passed for it with someone like him.  

 

“What’s there to talk about?”  He snapped.  

 

It wasn’t his tone that bothered you so much as how he refused to look at you.  He hadn’t so much as glanced in your direction since you’d picked him up.  He mostly just kept his face toward the window, staring out at a whole lot of nothing as you made your way across the midwest.  

 

“How about we start with are you ok?”  

 

The indelicate snort he gave was a resounding  _ not happening, sweet cheeks. _

 

“I’m sorry?  Thanks for helping save the world?”  You began to list off.  “Sorry, but death does  _ not  _ get you out of that side bet we had going -- which you lost, by the way.” 

 

This time, the sound he made was gentler; the slightest puff of air released through his nose.  Whether it was patience or slight amusement, it didn’t matter.  It was the least disgruntled thing you’d gotten from him.  

 

“I get it,” you told him.  “You don’t want to talk and that’s fine, but we’re going to have to figure out something to do other than ignore each other.”

 

“Says who?”  He asked, sounding more than ready to start some sort of argument.  You supposed that was better than nothing, but considering the only stipulation you had been given was  _ keep driving _ , you were going to need to conserve your energy if you were going to make it all the way to New England without putting yourself in a cornfield.

 

“Gabriel, I drove non-stop from Phoenix to get you,” you informed him, though you left out the part where you’d made record time and likely broken every traffic law in existence.  “And there’s no way we’re getting to where we’re headed by dawn.”

 

He looked over, but you couldn’t tell exactly where his glance fell.  The console maybe.  Possibly your cupholders.  All you knew was it was somewhere between you two. 

 

“I thought you hated Phoenix,” he questioned.  You really wanted to believe that was  _ not  _ suspicion coloring his tone, though it was outweighed by the fact that he was right.  You did, and you couldn’t believe he actually remembered, considering you despised it so much you only ever mentioned it in passing.  

 

You almost smiled, until you realized the reason you had had to go in the first place.

 

“There was no one else to take the case,” you informed him.  Your tone remained neutral, hiding the way your throat and chest constricted as you pushed against memories that included so many funerals that the details of each simply blurred together.   

 

This time there was no mistaking where his eyes landed, and for someone with newly blunted senses, there was certainly nothing wrong with his instincts.  One second passed.  Then another.  A familiar stare slowly overtook him as amber became appraising, and for the first time since he’d returned, he saw you.   _ Really  _ saw you.  

 

“Like I said,” you began, pre-empting whatever he was thinking of saying.  “ _ I get it _ .  We don’t have to talk about anything specific.  I just don’t want to fall asleep.”  

 

“So let me take over,” he said after a few moments.  There might have been a suggestion in there somewhere, but it was clear he’d made up his mind.  The edge from before was gone, however, his tone noticeably softer.  

 

Your brow crept up as you contemplated it.  “Do you even know how to drive?”

 

The only time you’d actually seen him at the wheel of a vehicle had, ironically enough, been when you’d fallen asleep at it.  You’d woken hours later on the passenger side, only to find him lounging, his feet up on the dash, the car magically guiding itself along the highway toward your destination.

 

“... I’m a fast learner,” he said defensively, and just like that, his hackles were raised again.  

 

Considering the whole point of you mentioning anything was to prevent you both from ending up in a ditch, you were going to have to pass on the offer.  

 

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him.  “Just humor me once the sun goes down.”  

 

You had a few more hours where you didn’t really need to worry.  It was when night came, when you found yourself in between pockets of civilization with nothing other than darkness staring back at you and an empty road, did you tend to slip away without realizing it.  

 

There was a pregnant pause as if he were debating something.  

 

“Oh, I got plenty of ideas on how to keep you up at night, sweetheart.”  

 

His tone was a little flat, but slowly, that smirk of his appeared.  It may have been more weighted than mischievous, but you could see a glimmer of his former self somewhere beneath the surface.  You’d take it.  You’d take anything after what he’d done for you, for everyone, as long as it gave you a place to start, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a part of yourself you thought you’d lost spark in return.


End file.
